


Night Terror

by umbralillium



Series: Witcher Regency AU [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22538083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbralillium/pseuds/umbralillium
Summary: Geralt woke to the fading edge of a scream.
Series: Witcher Regency AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621684
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2020





	Night Terror

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. I knew it. This 'verse isn't letting me go yet. Written for the February Ficlet Challenge 2020 prompt "Candlelight". Regency AU, unbetaed.

Geralt woke to the fading edge of a scream. Before he even processed the thought to wonder where the scream had come from, he was out of bed and out in the hall. The scream came again, from the room next to his own. Ciri’s room. He burst through the door, eyes taking in the bedroom in a single sweeping glance.

A fire burned low in the grate, banked for the night. A soft breeze ruffled the curtains over the window. Aside the from rustle of linens and low, distressed murmurs from the bed, the room was clear of any threats. Crossing to the bed, Geralt reached it just as Ciri let out another ear-piercing scream, this time with a name attached. “Laszlo!”

Heart wrenching at what he guessed Ciri dreamt of, he sat on the side of the bed and touched her shoulder gently. “Ciri,” he called, his voice almost a croak from sleep. He cleared it before calling her again. “Ciri.”

A flare of light caught the corner of his eye and he looked over to see his parents standing in the doorway, the candle his mother held deepening the shadows of their concern as they watched.

Geralt turned back to Ciri just as she bolted upright, her forehead catching him right in the mouth. He grunted in pain and jerked back.

Ciri didn’t even react to the pain the hit must have caused her. She just stared blankly across the room, panting and trembling.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked even as he pressed his fingers to his lower lip, checking the damage. A little blood, but nothing terrible.

She turned her head towards him and yet seemed to be looking through him. She was silent for a long moment before her face crumpled and a sob escaped her. She clapped a hand over her mouth and folded in on herself.

Geralt didn’t say a word, simply gathered her into his arms, guiding her head to his shoulder. “You’re safe,” he said softly, voice rumbling through his chest.

A soft murmur at the door and the candlelight faded, Visenna and Vesemir trusting him to comfort his goddaughter.

“I have you, little lark,” he whispered, petting a hand over her sleep-tousled hair.

“It’s not fair,” she said into his nightshirt.

“I know,” he said on a sigh, closing his eyes and tilting his head to rest it against hers. “I know.”


End file.
